


Found the World So New

by lost_decade



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Formula E RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 20:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13015323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_decade/pseuds/lost_decade
Summary: Nico wonders if either of them are bold enough to make a move, looking in the mirror in the bathrooms later on, trying to get his hair to behave. Casual hook-ups aren’t really his thing anymore, and it’s been a while. He’s over Lewis sufficiently enough for the idea to appeal to him though, especially when his phone vibrates with a text that saysthese ties could have several uses huh.





	Found the World So New

**Author's Note:**

> All I can say is they both look extremely nice in a suit. 
> 
> Set in Hong Kong at the Hugo Boss Formula E partnership event earlier this month. 
> 
> Title from Since I Left You by The Avalanches

The thing is – and this is not something he’s entirely happy about – Nico is pretty sure that Jean-Eric has slept with Lewis at least once in the last five years. Which he can’t really be too pissed off about given his own past dalliances have included a smiling (and pleasantly rough) Australian on more than—no, actually it was just one occasion. It’s a bit hazy now but he thinks that’s right. He’s also quite sure that Jean-Eric doesn’t know about it. Or maybe he does but he’s just subdued enough with the passage of time that it no longer bothers him who his ex slept with back when he still had aspirations of reaching the heights of a seat in a top team in F1.

Now Nico gets the impression as they’re chatting over champagne that Jean-Eric has forgotten Nico doesn’t hold the same contempt for Formula One that he does. It’s a love-hate thing though and Nico does get it to some extent – you give yourself over to a team and let them pit you against your teammate until it destroys any semblance of friendship, or more, that might have existed between the two of you.

Nico wouldn’t say that he feels sorry for Jev because that would be an insult and honestly the man looks a thousand times happier now than Nico had ever seen him in F1, but he finds himself able to empathise in a way that’s quite unexpected.

He can’t help but be curious about the Lewis thing though, a vague memory of his teammate taking him to one side at some point in 2014 when they were barely even speaking and asking Nico to translate a text that said _puis-je jouir sur votre visage_ into English for him. Nico had figured it had to be either Romain or Jev and Romain just didn’t seem the type. He’d been furious at the time, even not having touched his teammate for months, but in retrospect the idea of Jean-Eric coming all over Lewis’ face makes him feel a little hot and shivery both at the same time.

“More champagne?” he offers the Frenchman.

They mingle for a while, both together and separately, Nico’s eyes locking with Jean-Eric’s as the latter talks with d’Ambrosio across the room. His gaze lingers as the Frenchman sips from the champagne flute, watching the movement of his adam's apple as he swallows. Fuck.

Jev raises an eyebrow, holding the look heatedly before turning his attention back to Jerome.

Nico wonders if either of them are bold enough to make a move, looking in the mirror in the bathrooms later on, trying to get his hair to behave. Casual hook-ups aren’t really his thing anymore, and it’s been a while. He’s over Lewis sufficiently enough for the idea to appeal to him though, especially when his phone vibrates with a text that says _these ties could have several uses huh._

As a come on it’s a bit lame, but Nico recognises it for the testing the waters that it clearly is. He’s probably had a glass too much of champagne and that coupled with the jetlag has put him in a less cautious mood than he normally would be in such a situation. The partnership with Hugo Boss is half keeping his face out there and half easing himself into the world of Formula E. It would probably be foolish to start fucking around with the drivers if sometime soon he’s aiming to command respect as a team principal.

But then the entire world of motorsport is a sphere entrenched in incestuous hatefucking anyway and it would be nice to fool around a bit with a driver that he doesn’t have any deep seated competition with. Plus Jev has that slightly soft romantic French thing going on that Nico was once quite drawn to as a teenager after watching his mum’s copy of _Plein Soleil_ and furiously wanking over Alain Delon, before decades of sleeping with a Brit put the thought out of his mind.

_Not sure what you mean, care to show me?_

He slips his phone back into his trouser pocket, heading back out into the party. The majority of cameras have gone now, the crowd thinning out with the waning hours as Nico approaches his quarry. The music is loud and the lighting low, a deep blue hue to the room that complements the colour of Jean-Eric’s suit perfectly. It’s nicely tailored also – which obviously they all are or what would be the point in them being here – but Nico does like that, a man who knows how to dress well.

Jean-Eric’s fingers find Nico’s tie, straightening it, tightening the knot a little and then loosening it again in a playful little charade. They take a seat around one of the tables, thighs pressed up close together as Jev leans forward and pours from the bottle of Grey Goose on the table, half filling two tumblers and dropping some ice from the silver bucket into them, topping it up with tonic. They clink their glasses together, drinking in silence for a moment. Nico is hyper aware of the proximity of Jean-Eric’s body to his own, the warmth of his flesh so tantalisingly close. They could drink up and leave, go back to their respective hotels and look back at this as an amusing flirtation, an _almost._  Or...

Nico gets the feeling that the ball is in his court, that if something is going to happen here he’s going to need to be the one driving it, ironically. He chuckles to himself at the thought. “Something funny?” Jev asks lightly, a little hint of insecurity in his voice. Nico turns to look at him, which is both good because it means he gets to look into Jev’s beautifully expressive brown eyes and bad because they’re no longer touching as closely.

“Just retirement thoughts,” Nico shrugs.

“You know I can’t decide if I think you’re crazy for doing that or if it’s the best decision a driver could make.” He cocks his head, studying Nico carefully. “Brave, I think. I like that.”

Nico smiles. “Some people would disagree with you.”

“Not the sort of people we need in our lives, no?”

“No,” Nico agrees, shifting a little closer, glancing around to make sure they’re not being watched before sliding his hand over to rest on Jean-Eric’s leg, just casually, still testing this out. Jean-Eric picks up his drink, studying it carefully at the same time as he slips his other arm through Nico’s, his fingers brushing the inside of Nico’s wrist and stroking the thin skin there lightly enough to make him shiver. He trails his finger up the inside of Nico’s sleeve as far as his cufflink will allow, before linking their fingers together loosely, giving his hand a little squeeze.

“Are you going to tie me up or not, then?” Jev whispers into his ear.

***

Hong Kong is sticky humid as ever as they step out into the night, skyscrapers towering above them and a distance between the two of them that Nico is desperate to close. He feels weirdly up for this in a way he can’t quite put his finger on – almost as if he’s a kid getting to sleep with one of his idols, even though that’s far from the case. Jean-Eric is a little piece of racing that he can climb inside of though, as if he’ll taste of the track when they kiss, as if his skin will hold the tang of sweat and rubber rather than just the sandalwood of the aftershave he’s wearing. And as much as Nico doesn’t regret no longer racing he still feels a thrill at the thought of the lean lines of a racing driver’s body, sculpted to the same aerodynamic perfection as the cars they drive. It’s not something he can put into words, but if he could he has a feeling that Jev would get it, would understand. He wonders if the Frenchman sees Formula One when he looks at him, if he craves and hates at the same time. In any case Nico knows that if he were to ever find his way into Lewis’ bed again his ex-teammate would see it as Nico admitting defeat, that the satisfaction of Lewis’ orgasm would be bolstered with the idea that Nico misses him and in turn misses F1. Even if it was true, Nico would never admit it to Lewis.

They decide on Jev’s hotel, the Peninsula being closer than the Four Seasons even as it isn’t quite so dramatically elegant.

“The difference between our categories, I guess. Less pomp and circumstance here,” Jean-Eric says with a mix of self-deprecation and pride, even though Nico can’t see him returning to F1 even if the opportunity did arise, remembers vaguely with a shudder how a few years back he’d heard that Jev had been hospitalised after trying to starve himself down to meet the weight limit. He gets the impression that in Formula E everyone takes care of themselves and each other a little bit better.

Their hands find each other again in the taxi, not pushing for more yet, just their fingers entwined comfortably like bashful teenagers on a first date or lovers familiar after years of togetherness, very unlike any one night stand Nico’s had in a long time. Jev rests his head on Nico’s shoulder, light washing over his face as they move through the traffic and Nico is overwhelmed by the need to take care of him, to take him apart slowly and carefully and make him come like he’s never come before.

Safely ensconced in Jev’s hotel room, Nico presses him up against the door as they kiss as thoroughly and deeply as Nico has kissed anyone in a very long time. Kissing Jean-Eric is incredibly nice, the Frenchman exploring his mouth so lovingly, setting every nerve ending in Nico’s body tingling with arousal. He runs his fingers through Jean-Eric’s hair, straining up a little towards him as their height difference commands, groaning when Jean-Eric pulls his shirt free from his trousers and slides his hands up and around, brushing Nico’s nipples.

Slow only works for so long before they both need more, fine tailoring forgotten as they undress each other and let their suits fall crumpled to the floor. Jev whimpers when Nico slips to his knees, pressing his face against Jev’s erection, tracing its outline with his lips as the fabric of Jev’s underwear dampens. When that’s also out of the way he strokes Jean-Eric’s dick a couple of times, pressure deliberately light, making him squirm and moan when finally Nico licks over the head, tongue lapping up the pre-come that’s steadily dribbling from the tip as he urges Jean-Eric’s legs a little wider apart, one finger rubbing over his arsehole which flutters at the touch, another glistening bead of pre-come slick and wet on Nico’s tongue.

God, Nico almost wants to keep going like this, to just finger Jean-Eric open until he comes, to have him writhing and begging. He looks up at the Frenchman, his head back against the door and eyes squeezed shut. Nico wonders for a moment if he’s thinking of someone else, but then Jev whispers “Nico” with such desperation that Nico thinks, no, they’re both still in the room. For the first time in a long time this is a one night stand where their partners aren’t just a substitute for the one that they can no longer have.

True to their earlier teasing, Nico grabs both their ties, all set to secure Jev’s wrists to the ornate ironwork of the headboard when an idea occurs to him. The minibar is weirdly stocked with some shit that Nico hasn’t seen for years, and he was thinking of champagne but well, why not.

He covers Jean-Eric’s body with his own, shuddering in delight as their cocks rub together, kissing sloppily before Nico instructs him to turn onto his stomach, running his fingers down Jean-Eric’s back as his lips trace a path down his shoulder blades. He’s trembling, Jev, so responsive to every touch and god, Nico can’t remember the last time he had a lover like this. He reaches to the bedside table, retrieving the small bottle of minibar creme de menthe and pouring a little of the creamy alcohol over Jean-Eric’s lower back, leaning over and lapping it up before his tongue moves lower, parting Jev’s thighs as the tip of his tongue delves into the crease of his arse.

Jev full-body shivers at the sensation, moaning a stream of French into the pillow as Nico’s tongue glides over his arsehole, teasing and teasing around his rim until he spreads him wider, licking into him until Jev is really begging, arching and writhing, unsure if he wants more of this or for it to stop, for Nico to fuck him.

Now that it actually comes to it, Nico finds that he doesn’t want to tie Jev up, instead longing to feel the Frenchman’s hands on him while they fuck, to be touched. So often with Lewis it was like they couldn’t bear to touch each other, like it was just a means to an end and he doesn’t want to be reminded of that; as much as Nico enjoys being the one in charge he also needs to feel affection, the negative part of his brain always insisting on trying to convince him that he doesn’t deserve it.

“I’ll tie you up next time,” he tells Jean-Eric, not missing the little spark of delight in his eyes at the thought of this not being a one-off. Where did that even come from anyway? Back in the club Nico had thought if anything this would just be a quick, dirty blowjob in a bathroom stall, hadn’t even realised that he’d wanted something more intimate than that, hadn’t known it was what his post-racing life was lacking.

They fuck face to face, Jev’s legs around Nico’s waist, kissing and breathing raggedly against each other’s mouths, their chests slick with sweat. Nico can feel Jev’s dick leaking between their stomachs, more and more each time he thrusts into him; the desperate moans that tumble from his lips each time Nico hits his prostate drawing Nico closer and closer to losing control. Jev pushes a couple of fingers into Nico’s mouth, letting him suck on them as their rhythm falters, reaching down between the two of them with his other hand to jerk himself off, so close, so desperate. It is when he reaches down further to feel where they’re joined, his fingers slippy on the base of Nico’s cock as he fucks into him, that Nico loses it, coming so hard inside Jev that it feels as though he’s seeing stars, floating in a pure bliss that fills his whole body, still sucking on Jean-Eric’s fingers.

Jean-Eric works his hand on his dick frantically, overwhelmed by the feeling of Nico coming inside him, filling the condom that he now wishes they’d foregone because oh the thought of Nico’s come flooding him, warm and wet and seeping out of him as they cuddle later is just too hot to contemplate. He follows Nico over the edge moments later, clenching around the world champion’s softening cock and even that thought doesn’t bother him, that Nico achieved what he knows he never will, because he’s going to be Formula E champion this year, he’s going to give it his absolute all.

***

“This is really disgusting,” Jean-Eric wrinkles his nose, placing the bottle of creme de menthe back on the side after taking a sip.

“It's not that bad,” Nico laughs, “there was no champagne, I was improvising.” He thinks that mint might forever remind him of Jean-Eric now. He finishes mopping up the sticky mess on Jev's stomach, throwing the wad of tissue in the general direction of the bin in the corner before leaning in close to him, stroking Jev's beard softly and kissing him chastely on the lips. The air conditioning is just tipping into being too cold on their sweat-soaked skin and Jev draws the covers up over them both without even thinking about what he's doing.

“I should probably go,” Nico halfheartedly suggests, settling back into Jean-Eric’s arms.

“Yes, probably.”

Neither of them make any attempt to move.

Jean-Eric presses a kiss to Nico’s hair. “Do you have someone waiting for you at your hotel,” he asks.

“No, no one waiting.”

Jev’s chest hair is tickly against his face, his body warm. Nico has missed this, he realises, he’d sort of forgotten how good it could be with a man. Jean-Eric _hmms_ , wrapping an arm around Nico and pulling him closer.

“Maybe I could just—” Nico begins at the same time as Jean-Eric says “Do you want to—” Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea, to stay. Nico wonders if Jev is into topping at all. Generally Nico prefers to be the one doing the fucking but the memory of how Jev had almost lost it when Nico’s fingers had found his prostate for the first time is almost enough to get him hard again already. It’s years since anyone’s done that to him and he thought he preferred it this way but now he feels like he should probably give it another try. He cranes his neck, looking round at Jev. God, he really is quite beautiful.

“That was amazing for you as well, yes?” Nico asks him.

“You couldn’t tell?”

“Well, yeah but I—”

“You wanted to hear it? It’s okay, I know. And yeah, amazing for me also.”

They settle down next to each other, switching out the lights. Jean-Eric’s face is barely visible to Nico as his eyes adjust to the darkness, but he can tell the younger man is still awake.

“Do you ever hear from Daniel?” Nico asks, not entirely sure at his own motive behind the question. If Jev is disconcerted by it, it doesn’t show in his voice.

“Not for so long. A year, more than a year. I stopped counting how long. Different worlds, different everything. And you, with Lewis?”

The name sounds almost funny in Jean-Eric’s accent. It makes Nico smile, as if his relationship with Lewis could one day be something he can think of lightly and with fondness, rather than feeling an eternal aching desolation about what happened to them.

“We spoke earlier in the year. We’ll never be what we were, I don’t think. I guess I thought that being champion would be enough to level things with us, that it would make everything better.  And then he didn’t take my calls enough times that I stopped trying.”

Jean-Eric’s fingers find Nico’s face, stroking down his jaw before rubbing over his bottom lip.

“You let them go,” Jean-Eric says as Nico kisses his knuckles, “eventually you just let them go.”     


 


End file.
